Category Archives: wrinkles

George Clooney is single!!

If I could only decide between the too hot mamas. Eenie, Meanie, Miney...

I know, I know, I promised that Wendy and I would be updating you
all from the Big Apple. But, we didn’t have time. As we were leaving for the
airport, the news broke that George Clooney was newly single, possibly in Manhattan… and the race was on.

It’s obvious that the boy is barking up the wrong tree with these super-skinny, super-attractive, super-young, super-models.   And, now that he’s 50, we’re guessing he’s
going to realize the error of his ways and start looking for a well-seasoned,
less-than-perfect woman to provide arm candy.
We think a little cellulite and some wrinkles are fine, because hey, we’re
not perfect, either.

So now, the question is, me or Wendy?  We asked our husbands and since neither of them seemed threatened in the least, it’s a horse race.

When we weren’t stalking Georgie Porgie Puddin’ Pie, we took a ton of pictures, visited 5 states, actually DROVE IN MANHATTAN (thank you, Darla, you rock), met with agents and editors, talked book deals, ate waaaaay too much, walked barefoot in Times Square at midnight and laughed ourselves half silly.  We came home speaking with distinct New York accents and are energized and ready to write.

Wishing you all a fab 4th!

Carolyn Clooney

Sounds good, huh, Wendy?

3 Comments

Filed under 35 symptoms of menopause, aging, Children, Geroge Clooney, Marriage, Menopause, New York, parenthood, Travel, Weight gain, wrinkles, Writing

Cat Fight–The REAL Story

Here’s what really happened.  Four of us meet for breakfast to talk about a writer’s conference trip we are all taking to New York this summer to land agents and fabulous book and movie deals on our fascinating and hilarious lives as romance novelists/mothers/wives/slash/hacks/dog owners and, you know, a couple of other projects we’ve got stashed under the bed that we’re gonna take out and dust off and turn into gold. 

Wendy is late, as usual.  Don’t get me started.  Anyway, she comes skidding in to the restaurant, drops to into her chair, snaps her fingers for the ‘girl’ then goes off on her wrinkle jag, which we all know is a bid for attention.  The woman is adorable.  I don’t get the whole, “Oh, look at my teensy wrinkle and feel sorry for me,” deal.  But we have to humor her.  “Yeah, yeah, Wendy.  What are ya gonna do about the grand canyons on your face today?”  Furtive eye-rolling behind the menu.

In fact, while she was blathering on about the wrinkle thing, I snapped a pic of her with my phone, just to prove my point.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

wait… I got it here somewhere…

.

.

.

.

.

Oh.  Yeah.  Here.  Now.  I ask you.  Is this a face or is this a face?  I just want to gobble her up.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"Clinique has this AMAZING new product that they claim firms and tightens..."

 

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Over coffee (we’ve migrated to Starbucks by now) the four of us figure out all the details of our trip to the eastern seaboard and decide to ditch the writer’s meeting we’d planned on attending that morning in Portland and hit the mall instead. 

Wendy was still nattering about this miracle stuff she was going to spend waaaaaay too much money on and I wanted to find some pants that would make me look 40 lbs. lighter.

As I was off looking for “skinny jeans” (sheyeah, what a crock) Wendy gave us the slip.  We finally found her seated in the chair behind the Clinique counter getting her upper lip spackled.  Okay.  I get it now.  The whole wrinkle cream gig isn’t about fixing your wrinkles.  No.  Oprah, are you listening, because this is the real SECRET.  Wrinkle cream IS NOT about ‘fixing a problem’.  It’s about ‘confusing the eye’.  It’s about slathering a whole bunch of gummy stuff on your lip and telling you that your wrinkles are gone and then charging you $174 + tax. 

Wendy, I’m only gonna say this once.  “The emperor has no clothes!  B-U-C-K Naked!

Of course your friends are going to tell you that the flaky, chalky, goofy crud on your upper lip looks great because we love you. 

"I can't nove ny lits cuz this stuff is sooter hard!"

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Truth be told, we simply had no where else to look.  We had to avert our eyes.  That’s why no one noticed wrinkles.  A person can’t see when they’re all squinty-eyed and cringing. 

Carolyn

3 Comments

Filed under aging, BOTOX, Children, Cooking, Death, Dogs, Fifteen Minutes of Fame, friendship, Humor, Marriage, Menopause, Motherhood, parenthood, Weight gain, Weight Loss, wrinkle erasers, wrinkles

GIRL FIGHT

I got into a little scuffle with some of my dearest friends this past weekend, and I’d like us to publicly kiss and make up.

Here’s what happened:  Next month Carolyn and I are heading to New York with our friends Su, Darla and Ginger.  It’s going to be part business, part Thelma and Louise road trip sans most of the crime.  Last Saturday four of us met to work out the details and to hit the mall to pick up essentials.  The problem began at breakfast.  I arrived with wild hair and the bare minimum of makeup (I’m working on embracing the real me, remember).

They arrived beautiful.  I mean, just fabulous.  Hair freshly cut and colored, their makeup perfect, not a damn line on any of their post-menopausal-yet-dewy faces.  And it was only 8:30 in the morning.  I feel so happy that they are aging beautifully.  Really, I do.  I mean, I love these women.  But by the time my tea arrived, I was thinking about the ads I’ve been seeing for an Origins wrinkle eraser.  You get 83% of the effect of the injectables I refuse to use because I’m so self-actualized.

So, off we go to the mall and there it is—the wrinkle eraser.  A lovely 46-year-old (we asked) saleswoman with not a line on her kisser offers us samples.  Tiny little samples.  Well, looking at this saleswoman and at my friends, I begin to feel my self-actualization slipping southward.  I mean, it’d be just as easy to embrace myself with 83% of my fine lines and wrinkles softened a little, right?  So…

I took my tiny sample and my friends’ samples, too.  They don’t need them. 

 They got so upset.  They asked me if I’d let my daughter take her friends’ gifts.  Well, yes, I would in a case like this.  It would show discernment.  And, she’d be saving them from putting unnecessary chemicals in their pores.  But they grabbed their little packets back (rather forcefully, I’d say), and a brief physical skirmish in front of the Origins counter ensued.  Our saleslady and two of her coworkers suggested we stop it.

We haven’t really discussed the incident since, but I’ve been mulling it over, and I think we should make up right here, right now.

So apologize, girls.  And then gimme back my wrinkle erasers!!!!

Wendy

10 Comments

Filed under BOTOX, friendship, Humor, Menopause, wrinkle erasers, wrinkles